The royal capital.
In a mansion befitting a nobleman, a certain nobleman was staying.
With an anxious expression, the nobleman asked his subordinate.
"Any news yet?"
"Not yet, my lord. Please do not worry yourself so. We sent thirty men skilled in all manner of rough work. They will handle a single witch who has just come of age and return without any trouble."
At those words, meant to comfort him, the nobleman nodded as well.
"Yes, you're right. It must be so. Tsk, foolish girl. It would have been better for her if she had just meekly accepted our offer."
The nobleman was a nobleman of the kingdom.
His father, his grandfather, and their parents before them had all been nobles of the kingdom.
To the nobleman, the kingdom was his home, his fortune, and his very life.
A life where he was not a nobleman of the kingdom was something he had never known, nor even considered.
That was why, when the king issued a certain command one day, the nobleman was genuinely bewildered.
「I shall reclaim all eight sacred treasures once lost to the royal family and lead this kingdom to glory once more.」
It was true that the kingdom had once possessed such treasures.
It was also true that the kingdom had prospered greatly when it held them.
But that was all in the distant past.
The kingdom had long since fallen from its golden age, and the treasures it once possessed had been scattered across the world, finding new masters long ago.
To try and reclaim them now… there was no way the treasures' current owners would simply hand them over.
But the king was a stubborn man.
No matter how the nobleman and the other subjects tried to dissuade and implore him, he would not abandon his goal of retrieving the treasures.
The most his subjects could do was stop the king from carrying out his reckless plan to lead an army to recover the treasures himself.
「Hmph! In that case, how about this? If it is diplomatically problematic for our country to move its own soldiers, then we can simply borrow the power of an outsider. If we have the renowned 'Wicked Witch of the East' retrieve the treasures, there will be no problem at all.」
It wasn't that there would be no problem. The nobleman thought there would be nothing but problems. The other subjects seemed to feel the same.
But the king stubbornly pushed his plan forward, and an envoy was dispatched to the renowned—no, infamous—Wicked Witch of the East.
Fortunately for the nobleman, it was not the Wicked Witch of the East who answered the king's call, but her apprentice.
The witch's apprentice was young. No, she was a child.
Manipulating one inexperienced girl would be no great feat, the subjects thought.
Under the pretext of being her escort, the nobleman constantly whispered to her.
There was no need to take the search seriously. She could just travel around for a bit until the king lost his enthusiasm. The nobles would cover all expenses, and there would be a reward for her when this was all over.
It was an exceptional offer.
His fellow nobles were shocked, wondering if it wasn't too much for a mere commoner girl.
Some even argued that they could have just given her a few coins or intimidated her.
The nobleman inwardly thought it a waste as well, but he decided to treat it as a necessary expense.
The legendary tales of the 'Wicked Witch of the East' couldn't all be true, but even if only a tenth of them were, she was a monster capable of easily destroying a domain or two.
Considering the risk of offending such a monster by mistreating her apprentice, this was an acceptable expenditure.
The problem was, the witch's apprentice simply wouldn't be persuaded.
No matter how the nobleman tried to persuade, entice, or threaten her, the apprentice remained unshaken, stating only that she would "complete the king's errand."
To the nobleman, her behavior was incomprehensible. It was natural for ignorant fools to hold blind loyalty and reverence for their betters, but in this moment, her ignorance was unbearably frustrating and hateful.
Finally, just as the nobleman, unable to withstand the pressure from his peers, was preparing to take extreme measures, the witch's apprentice vanished on her own.
From the apprentice's perspective, she had simply left because she realized she couldn't pass her master's test while accompanied by the nobles. But to the nobleman, who had a guilty conscience, it looked as if she had discovered their plot and fled.
The nobleman grew worried.
If the witch's apprentice went and told her master what had happened, the one to face the witch's wrath wouldn't be the foolish king, but them—the nobles who had acted for the good of the country.
The witch's apprentice had to disappear quietly in an 'accident,' one that had nothing to do with them.
The nobleman made his judgment.
The nobleman made his choice.
The nobleman gave his command.
Having done all he had to do, all that was left for the nobleman was to wait anxiously for the results.
"Damn it, still nothing? What's taking so long to catch one little witch—"
The nobleman's words were cut short.
A commotion, seemingly from outside the mansion, stole his attention.
"What is it? Is the job done?"
The look on the nobleman's face was not bright.
No, the emotion revealed on his face was closer to fury.
He had given clear instructions to finish the job 'quietly.'
If the commotion outside was caused by his men, it meant his orders had been ignored. If it was from another source, it meant an uninvited guest had arrived at his mansion.
Either way, he had no reason to be pleased.
"I will go and check."
His confidant, sensing his displeasure, went out of the room himself instead of sending his underlings.
Only the nobleman, suppressing his anger, and a few bodyguards remained in the room.
About five minutes passed.
The confidant did not return, and far from dying down, the commotion only grew louder.
Finally, his patience reaching its limit, the nobleman was about to get up with a shudder of frustration. It was at that exact moment.
CRASH!
A tremendous boom, as if something heavy had been thrown down, shook the air.
The nobleman wore a bewildered expression.
That vibration hadn't come from outside.
It was from right beneath his feet.
Thump! Thump! Thud-thud-thud-thud!
Something unknown was rushing up from the first floor to the second, where the nobleman was.
-Stop it!
-Aargh!
-H-Help me!
Screams and shouts could be heard.
"My lord! Step away from the door!"
The bodyguard knights drew their swords, blocking the space between the nobleman and the door.
They were prepared to respond to whatever might charge through the door, but the attacker was more violent than they had anticipated.
BANG!
The door flew through the air.
A knight in its path was sent flying along with it.
The other knight swung his sword, but the intruder casually blocked the blow and stomped on the knight's foot.
Crunch.
The knight's body flinched reflexively from the horrific pain of his instep being crushed.
The intruder struck the knight's earlobe with the pommel of his sword, then landed a back kick squarely in the center of his chest.
Spraying blood and vomit, the knight collapsed.
The other knight, who had been sent flying with the door, struggled to get up, but the intruder stomped on him, door and all, with a sickening crunch, and he went still.
The terrified nobleman could only stare at the intruder, unable to even make a sound.
A body of dull metal that spoke of great age.
In its left hand, it held a shield; in its right, a single sword with a blunt edge.
Not a single breath escaped from the helm that completely covered its face, and where its eyes should have been, only an eerie, will-o'-the-wisp-like light burned silently.
A monster.
The word flashed through the nobleman's mind.
It was a cliché, but it seemed there was no other word more fitting for the knight before him.
"…"
The knight was silent.
No threats, no warnings, no mockery. It simply stared at the nobleman.
Faced with that silence, the nobleman could only shrink back further.
From behind the knight, the girl from his memories appeared. Only then was the nobleman able to catch his breath.
He asked in a trembling voice.
"H-How?"
The girl silently raised her left hand. In it was a birdcage. But inside was not a parrot or some other bird, but a human skull.
The thing, which should not have been able to move, began to clatter and speak.
"It was him! That man ordered me to kill you, Witch! The nobleman of the kingdom, Marquis William Hemming, is the culprit! I have told the truth! Witch, please, have mercy! Mercy for one who told the truth! Witch! Mercy!"
Mercy.
Mercy.
Mercy!
The skull repeated the word again and again. It clattered its bones, making sounds with a head that possessed no vocal cords, begging the black-haired girl for mercy.
Seeing this, the nobleman had a vague realization.
This was no witch's apprentice.
The girl before him was already a witch in her own right.
She swung the birdcage in her hand twice in a clockwise circle. The skull crumbled to dust and scattered, and the cage shrank into a small ring that settled on the witch's finger.
The witch looked at the nobleman with a sullen expression and spat out,
"Do I need to explain further?"
You tried to kill me first, so I retaliated. That was the witch's explanation.
It was an exceedingly simple and easy-to-understand answer.
But to the nobleman, it was also an utterly unreasonable one.
Because he was a noble.
Because the witch before him was a commoner.
A noble could strike a commoner, but the reverse should never happen.
That was the law of the world as the nobleman knew it.
But that law had been broken, and the knight standing beside the insolent witch was far too terrifying for him to scold her.
The witch, who so casually controlled the dead, was unnerving.
So, instead of browbeating the girl with his authority, the nobleman swallowed his humiliation and tried to reason with her.
"Alright, I apologize. I sincerely apologize for trying to harm you. But please, think about this. The king is not in his right mind. He's drunk on some glorious past and can't see reality!"
The nobleman was a native of the kingdom. As such, he knew its limitations all too well.
A small country in the eastern part of the continent. A long history, but nothing else of note. Just enough power to defend itself, but hopelessly inadequate compared to the real monsters of the world.
"You must have received a magic tool from the king that shows the location of the eight treasures. That wasn't made in our kingdom. It was given to us by the Kingdom of Heaven, those who roam the skies. The foolish king was delighted, saying the Kingdom of Heaven wants to return the treasures to their rightful owner, but that can't be right. They've undoubtedly given the same thing to other countries. The nations of the earth will dance in the palm of their hands. This is a grand conspiracy. You mustn't get involved!"
The nobleman was desperate.
He was pleading.
He grew even more so because the witch before him, far from being startled, wore an indifferent expression.
"Don't you understand yet!? If our kingdom gets caught up in that conspiracy, we'll be in danger, but the first one to be in danger will be you, the one collecting the treasures! So—"
"One moment you're trying to kill me, the next you're pretending to be worried. I guess saying 'sorry' makes the crime just disappear."
"Ugh."
The nobleman was at a loss for words.
Looking down on him, the witch unilaterally informed him.
"One: Do not attempt to harm me or interfere with my journey from now on.
Two: If you see any sign of the king or other nobles trying to betray me, you will inform me.
Three: I don't need any escort or whatever. I'll retrieve the treasures myself, so explain that to everyone.
If you violate these terms, you will be turned into a frog while you're still alive. Say you agree."
"What? There's no way I'd agree to such a thing!"
"Then just die. I don't mind either way. I only subdued the others instead of killing them because they weren't the ones who directly targeted my life, but don't think you, the mastermind, will receive such mercy."
As the knight beside the witch silently pressed its sword forward, the nobleman shrieked in terror.
"I agree! I agree! Agh!"
The nobleman let out a short scream at the sharp sting he felt on his fingertip.
The blood that seeped from his finger formed letters in the air before turning into light and sinking back into the nobleman's body.
Long after the witch and the knight had left, the nobleman remained slumped on the floor, looking utterly dazed.